


Scottish Accents

by The_Great_Deprussian



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Accent, Alistair is angry, Arthur is frustrated, Cuddles, Francis is confused, Gen, Ireland twins, Light Angst, M/M, Vandalism(mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Great_Deprussian/pseuds/The_Great_Deprussian
Summary: In which Francis has no clue what's going on.
Relationships: FrUK - Relationship, France/England, Francis Bonnefoy/Arthur Kirkland, Francis/Arthur
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Scottish Accents

To be honest, Francis had no idea what was going on. It had all started when Alistair had come over. But that in itself wasn't the problem. The _problem_ was that the Scottsman was ranting. And with that accent Francis had no clue what he was saying.

As Francis observed the conversation from his position on the couch he became more and more convinced he had married an actual god. Somehow, Arthur could understand his fiery brother and was holding an effective argument.

"And that concerns me how?! It's none of my buisness what happened to your car you blody git!" Arthur groaned, running an irritated hand through his hair. Insert more angry gibberish here.

"Yeah? Sounds like you should take this up with Seamus then! I can't solve evry one of your guy's spats! I have a life!"

Alistair ranted angrily, pacing back and forth while waving his arms. Arthur's voice rose fractionally, "You were stone drunk Alistair! Did you really not expect Seamus and Ciaran to take advantage of that! They're nothing if not mischevious!"

Francis could se Arthur's frustration mounting. Though he did not enjoy seeing a husband agitated, the anger not being directed at him was a pleasant change.

"For Hylia's sake! Pull yourself together! It's just a car! And the car itself is fine! You just need to repaint it!" Arthur's voice became shrill in his anger.

Francis didn't know what Alistair said next but whatever it was pushed Arthur over the edge. A slap echoed throughout the room before silence reigned supreme. Francis and Alistair stared in shock at Arthur. A red mark blomed on Alistair's cheek.

Arthur jabbed a finger into Alistair's chest. His voice was a low hiss, "Listen here Scotland. I am sick of you coming over here to whine and gripe about whatever problem you have. You are the oldest for crying out loud! It's high time you start acting like it!"

Arthur stepped back with a sigh, eyes still like chips of stone, "Get out. I've reached my quota of idiocy for the day."

The Englishman apparently noticed the defiant glint in Alistair's eyes because he grabbed the red head's ear. Alistair yelped as he was pulled down to Arthur's eye level., "I said get out."

Once released, Alistair stalked out without a word. Immediatly, Arthur's shoulders slumped and he collapsed onto the couch. Francis scooted over and pulled Arthur's head into his lap, before running his fingers through the other's hair.

Arthur sighed and leaned into the touch as his eyes drifted shut. For a while they sat in silence but Francis didn't mind. He knew that if Arthur wanted to talk(read: rant) he would.

"I really hate Alistair sometimes." Arthur eventually began, eyes still closed, "Seriously, no one would guess he's thousands of years old most of the time."

Francis hummed and nodded. Best not to interrupt yet.

"I mean, honestly! He should be able to fix his own dang problems without my help! He's a freaking full-grown country! And yet still comes to me whenever something doesn't go how he wants it instead of trying to figure it out himself!"

Francis continued to listen and nod as Arthur spoke. Once it seemed Arthur was done he gave his lover a gentle kiss, "I love you Angleterre."

"Love you too frog." Arthur sighed.

"But I want you to know I had almost no clue what Alistair was whining bout. At some points I could barely understand _you_!" Francis admitted.

Arthr gave an amused huff, "Sorry. Sometimes I forget how hard it can be to understand Alistair when he gets going."

"All of your siblings, really. Except little Peter."

Arthur nodded, "Well, he was complaining because Seamus and Ciaran spray painted his truck tye-dye."

Francis barked a laugh, "Really?!"

Arthur nodded with an exhasperated eye roll, "I mean, what did he expect! Those two have always been troublemakers! And Alistair is apperantly especially fun to antagonize."

"They are Ireland no?"

"Yep." Arthur replied, popping the "p."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I enjoyed watching you whale on Alistair. The look on his face when you slapped him was priceless."

Arthur sniggered, "Yeah it was."

Francis sighed and layed sideways on the couch, pulling Arthur so he was lying on his chest. His arms wrapped securely around the other. Arthur relaxed uncounciously and rolled so he was on his stomach.

"We're staying right here for a while?" Arthur asked hopefully.

"Yep," Francis sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, "Trying to keep up with an agitated Alistair is tiring."


End file.
